Текст книги "Fatal Scandal"
Автор книги: Marie Force
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Chapter Five
Gonzo went into the bedroom he shared with Christina and began throwing clothes into a duffel bag he’d pulled from under the bed. He’d heard the saying “coming out of your skin” throughout his life, but he’d never experienced the sensation himself until now. He literally felt like he was going to implode.
“Tommy.” The sound of his name coming from the woman he loved had him spinning around to face her. “Take a minute. Try to calm down.”
“Where’s Alex?”
“I put him down for a nap.”
“We don’t have time for a nap.”
She came to him, resting her hands on his chest where she could no doubt feel his heart racing. “Breathe.”
“I can’t.”
“Try. For me.”
He drew in a rattling deep breath and released it.
“Do it again.”
“Chris—”
“Do it again.”
Resigned, he did as she asked.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t kill Lori.”
“Everyone will think I did.”
“Let them think what they will. We know the truth. We know it, Tommy.”
“I wanted to.”
“You wanted to what?”
“Kill her. When I found out she had her lawyers looking into me, investigating me, looking for something she could use against me. Then when she discovered my connection to Morton and went to the media with it, I wanted to kill her.”
“Thinking that doesn’t make you a murderer.”
“I told Sam, last night when she called... I told her I wanted to wrap my hands around Lori’s neck and squeeze the life out of her.”
Christina gasped. “You said that out loud? To Sam?”
“Yeah.” A wave of nausea had him swallowing repeatedly. “I was blowing off steam. How could I know that someone was going to actually do that to her?”
“Oh my God, Tommy. No wonder she came here thinking it was possible.”
“She knows I didn’t actually do it, Christina! You know I didn’t!”
“What if she tells someone you said that?”
“She won’t.”
“How do you know that for sure?”
“I know it. I know her. She’s not going to tell anyone.”
“If it’s her ass in the sling, she’ll protect herself before she’ll protect you.”
He shook his head. “If you think that, you don’t know her at all. She always protects her team before herself. Always. I’m not worried about her telling anyone. She’s one of the few people in this world I trust completely.” He kissed her forehead and held her close for a minute he didn’t have to spare. “We gotta get out of here. Sam’s right about what’ll happen when they release Lori’s name to the media.”
Her hands trembled as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He hated that he’d caused her such distress. “We’ll be okay, babe,” he said with more confidence than he had. “As long as we stick together, it’ll be okay.”
“I’ll pack for Alex.” She turned and left the room, crossing the hall to the baby’s room.
Gonzo sat on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. How in the hell had everything gotten so fucked up so fast? He should’ve disclosed the connection to Judge Morton. He knew that. But he’d been so desperate to gain custody of Alex he’d kept his mouth shut, taking any advantage he could get. And now it had blown up in his face in every possible way.
Lori was dead. Jesus. After all she’d done to clean up her life in the last year, who would want to kill her? Was it someone from her past life as an addict? Had she met someone new and ended up in an abusive relationship? It was time to stop being freaked out and start acting like the detective he was.
His phone rang and he withdrew it from his pocket. He didn’t recognize the Virginia number, but he took the call anyway, despite the pang of fear that struck him at the possibility of more bad news. “Gonzales.”
“It’s Leon Morton.”
Gonzo automatically sat up straighter. “Oh, Your Honor.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you on a holiday.”
He didn’t mention that he’d already been thoroughly disturbed. “No problem.”
“I wanted to get in touch to apologize.” The judge’s speech was halting, as if he were pained. “I hate that this has happened, that you’re in such a tough spot.”
He had no idea how tough that spot had become overnight. “Thank you, sir, but it’s not your fault. I should’ve said something.”
“One of us should have. I was naïve to think it wouldn’t come out.”
“As was I,” Gonzo said.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about the outcome. Custody was granted to the right parent.”
“Thank you for that.”
“As you can imagine, the scrutiny has been damaging. I’ve decided to retire to prevent it from going any further.”
Gonzo felt sick again. With Morton out of the picture, all the scrutiny would be on him, which it would be anyway now that Lori was dead. “That’s probably for the best.”
“I just want to say, despite all this, I appreciate, we all appreciate, what you did for our family so long ago. My parents were able to rest in peace knowing Eva’s killer had been brought to justice, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful. I’m sorry it’s come back to haunt you in this way.”
“It’s not your fault, so please don’t sweat it. We’ll figure it out.” He hated to think about Lori’s murder in terms of the upside—the end of the custody battle. That is, if he wasn’t arrested for her murder.
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. My best to your fiancée and Happy New Year to you both.”
“Same to you. Thanks for calling.”
“Least I could do.”
“Take care.” Gonzo ended the call and sat staring at the floor, thinking about what the judge had said.
“Who was that?” Christina asked as she came back into the room, carrying the monogrammed backpack her parents had given Alex for Christmas.
“Judge Morton.”
“Seriously? What did he say?”
“That he’s sorry about what’s happened but still grateful for what I did for his family years ago.”
She sat next to him on the bed. “That’s nice of him.”
“It was.”
“Did you tell him about Lori?”
“I didn’t see any reason to. He’ll find out soon enough. The whole world will.” He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Let’s finish packing and get the hell out of here before the shit hits the fan.”
* * *
At HQ, Sam went directly to the morgue where Lindsey McNamara had begun the autopsy on Lori Phillips. “What’ve you got for me, Doc?” Sam asked as she stepped into the cold, antiseptic-smelling space that always gave her the creeps.
“Nothing much so far. I just started.”
“Tell me you’ve got fingerprints on her neck. Tell me this was an act of rage and not something premeditated enough that our perp gloved up.”
Lindsey glanced at her. “Are you going to tell me who she is?”
“If I do, you’ve got to help me keep it quiet for a while.”
“How come?”
Sam blew out a deep breath. “She’s Gonzo’s baby mama.”
Lindsey’s green eyes widened with shock. “The stuff in the news, about his connection to the judge...”
“It’s a shitstorm that’s about to get a whole lot shittier.”
“Does he know?”
Sam nodded. “I saw him earlier. He’s a fucking mess.”
“But he didn’t... Well, of course he didn’t. But he probably wanted to, and the press will be all over him.”
“Which is why the rest of my squad is currently digging into Lori’s life, looking for motive somewhere else.”
“Damn.” Lindsey gazed down at the naked woman with the visible bruising on her neck and the stretch marks on her abdomen that indicated she’d once carried a child.
Was it weird that Sam was envious of stretch marks on a dead woman? Yeah, it was very weird, but she’d become accustomed to the odd longings that went along with her infertility. They struck at the strangest times.
“First he gets shot and now this,” Lindsey said with the empathy Sam had come to expect of her friend and colleague. That empathy was one of the reasons she was such a first-rate medical examiner. “The poor guy is having a hell of a run of bad luck.”
“I know. He was already down before this with the wound taking so long to heal.” Sam was worried about how much lower Gonzo could get before he’d hit rock bottom. “Anyway,” she said, shaking off those glum thoughts, “how was the anniversary celebration?”
Before her eyes, Lindsey blushed like a schoolgirl. “Great.” She, too, had met her boyfriend, Terry O’Connor, at Sam and Nick’s promotion party the previous New Year’s Eve. Terry was now Nick’s chief of staff, since Christina stepped down after the campaign to spend more time with Alex and Gonzo.
“That’s it? That’s all I’m getting?”
“There is one thing I could tell you.”
“I’m listening.”
“We got engaged.”
“That’s huge news! Congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.”
“You’ve come a long way from the days of ‘Why does Nick’s world and my world have to collide?’” Lindsey said drolly.
“I like to think I’m maturing in my old age.”
Lindsey snorted with laughter. “That’ll be the day.”
“So how did he ask?”
“He kept it very simple and sweet. We went to dinner and then came home, and he asked me there.”
“So where’s the ring?”
“At home where it belongs, same place yours is when you’re working.”
“What’s it look like?”
“It’s gorgeous. A big solitaire surrounded by smaller diamonds and a diamond band. I love it.”
“Were you totally surprised?”
“Not totally. We’ve talked about it a few times, but I didn’t know last night was the night. I cried my eyes out when he asked, and he did too when I said yes. It was very... It was lovely.”
“I’m feeling a little misty myself just hearing about it.”
Lindsey cocked an eyebrow at Sam. “You? Misty?”
“I know! Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Sam looked down at the waxy remains of Lori Phillips. “Are we weird to be standing here having this conversation with a dead body laid out in front of us?”
“Most people would probably think so, but this is what we do and who we are. If we couldn’t be normal in the midst of all this senseless death, we’d probably be locked up in a loony bin by now.”
“True.”
“And I have no doubt whatsoever that you’ll get justice for this poor girl. No matter what she was putting our friend through, she didn’t deserve this.”
“No,” Sam said with a sigh, “she didn’t. Let me know when you’ve got your report done.”
“Don’t I always?”
“Thanks, Doc.” Sam left the morgue and headed for the stairwell to the second floor. Coming down the stairs as she went up was Sergeant Ramsey from the Special Victims Unit. He scowled at her as she went past him. “Always nice to see you too, Sergeant.”
“Fuck off.”
Sam spun around. “Excuse me?”
He kept going down the stairs. “You heard me.”
Sam stormed up the remaining stairs and took a left to go to SVU when she’d planned to go to IT. She walked through the rows of cubicles, drawing the attention of every detective she passed as she made her way to the lieutenant’s office in the back.
Without knocking, she strolled into the office of SVU Lieutenant Davidson and slammed the door.
“Help you with something, Lieutenant?” Davidson asked without looking up from what he was doing.
Sam refused to talk to the top of his dark head, so she waited until he finally looked up at her. “Ramsey.”
“What about him?”
“He just told a superior officer to fuck off.”
“Did he?”
“He did.”
“Okay.”
“What do you plan to do about it?”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“See that you do.”
“Um, yeah, I said I would. Anything else?”
Sam knew she ought to quit while she was ahead, but what fun was that? “You know what they say about tone at the top?”
“What about it?”
“You might want to let your people know that insubordination is unacceptable around here and isn’t good for their career development.”
“You might want to get your own house in order before you start butting into mine.”
“My house is in fine order, thank you very much. Yours, on the other hand, could use some work.” Satisfied to have the last word, Sam opened the door and went back the way she came.
Detective Erica Lucas raised a brow in Sam’s direction as she passed Erica’s cubicle.
“Lieutenant,” Erica said.
“Detective. Nice to see you.”
“You too. How’s your niece doing?”
“Much better. She’s going back to school in Virginia to finish up her senior year.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Thank you again for your sensitivity with her.”
“No problem.” She glanced at the lieutenant’s office. “Everything all right?”
Sam lowered her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Just another run-in with my good friend Ramsey.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “Watch out for him. He hates your guts.”
“Any idea why?”
“I have my theories.” Erica’s gaze darted around nervously. “Let’s grab a coffee off campus sometime soon.”
“We’ll do that.”
Nodding, Erica said, “I haven’t seen you since your husband’s promotion. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I think.”
Erica laughed and shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”
“Neither did we.”
“I’d love to hear all about it.”
“I’ll call you about that coffee.”
“Sounds good.” Sam left SVU and headed for IT where she received a much friendlier reception from Lieutenant Archelotta, the one fellow officer who’d seen her naked during their brief fling several years ago.
“Hey, Sam. What brings you up to my neck of the woods?”
She produced the CD from Gonzo’s building. “Could you take a look at this for me and see if you can isolate the person or persons who disabled the security camera in an apartment building?”
“Sure, I’ll put one of my guys right on it.”
“How’d you end up working on the holiday?”
“Nothing better to do,” he said with a sheepish grin. “You?”
“Caught a homicide first thing.”
“Oh, damn. So, I haven’t seen you since everything happened.” He stretched to look around her. “Where’s your Secret Service detail?”
“No detail for me. Just him and the boy.”
“How’d you pull that off?”
“He made it a condition,” she said with a shrug. “They wanted him badly enough to give him what he wanted.”
“That’s very cool. I can’t believe your husband is the VP.”
“Neither can he.”
Archie laughed. “So business as usual for you, then?”
“That’s the goal.”
He held up the CD case. “I’ll get something ASAP for you on this and the phone Cruz brought in.”
“Thanks, Archie.” Keeping an eye out for Ramsey, Sam went downstairs to the detectives’ pit where most of her team had assembled. Freddie was on the phone so she gestured to her office. He held up his index finger as he nodded.
Sam sat behind her mess of a desk and corralled her still-damp hair into a clip. Her brain was whirling with disturbing thoughts and implications. A knock on the door preceded Captain Malone stepping into her office.
He shut the door behind him.
“Captain.”
“Lieutenant.” He was in jeans and a sweater today, his service weapon holstered to his hip and his badge clipped to the front pocket of his pants. Though he was approaching his late forties, he was still a badass in her eyes. “Tell me what we know about the Phillips homicide.”
“She was found early this morning in a car parked on Constitution Ave near West Potomac Park. She’d been manually strangled.”
“She was in the driver’s seat of the car?”
“Yes.”
“Was it her car?”
Sam shook her head. “It was registered to a George Phillips of Bowie.”
“Let’s get someone up there to talk to him.”
“It’s on the to-do list. I need to get with my team and figure out our next move.”
“And Detective Gonzales?”
“I spoke with him earlier. He and his fiancée were home all evening, celebrating their first anniversary. They arrived home yesterday afternoon and hadn’t yet left the apartment when I saw them.”
“And they can prove that?”
“Not exactly.” She filled him in on the situation with the security cameras in Gonzo’s building. “The super said the cameras were working fine yesterday. Archie has the footage and he’s checking to see if we can figure out who disarmed them.”
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”
“You and me both.”
“If someone wanted to off her, who better to frame than someone who’s been locked in a custody battle with her?” Malone asked.
“I’ve had the same thought.”
“Where is he?”
“I suggested he visit his parents in West Virginia today.” She paused before she added, “As planned.”
“Good thinking.”
“How do we handle the brass on this? The minute we announce the name of our vic, the media will be all over us—and all over Gonzo. We know he didn’t do it, Cap.”
“You know that, and I know that, but we also know he had motive. As did Christina.”
“They didn’t do it.”
“We’re going to need to prove it. You got that, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam said with a sigh.
“And we’re going to have conflict of interest issues working a case in which one of our guys had a strong motivation to see this woman dead.”
“So what are you saying?”
“The chief will want to call in outside reinforcements.”
Sam bent her head, which had begun to pulse with the early signs of a migraine. “What kind of outside reinforcements?”
“You know exactly what kind.”
The FBI. Avery Hill. “I’m getting tired of having him underfoot in every investigation, as if we can’t function on our own.”
“We function just fine on our own, but sometimes we need help. Such as when he cut through miles of red tape and got a search warrant for your niece’s dorm room or when he pushed the bullet through the lab after your dad’s surgery.”
“For all the good that did us.”
“It’s more information than we had before.”
The National Integrated Ballistics Information Network had come back with no match to the nine-millimeter bullet that had been retrieved from her father’s neck.
“If the person who fired that shot screws up again, we’ll have him—or her,” Malone reminded her. “Your dad’s bullet is now in the system. The case can break wide open at any time.”
Malone wasn’t telling Sam anything she didn’t know, but her high hopes for an immediate break had been dashed.
“How’s he doing anyway?”
“Terrible. The pain is bad. The doctors say it’ll get better, but it’s been more than a month, and it’s not improving at all. They’ve got him so hopped up on morphine that he’s out of it most of the time. Just when I thought his situation couldn’t get worse, it did.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam. I know it’s rough. Hell, it’s hard on us to see him like that, and we’re just his friends.”
“You’re much more than that to him. To all of us.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”
She nodded. “The visits from you—all of you—have sustained him.”
“We love him,” Malone said simply.
Sam needed to change the subject before she broke down in front of her boss. “We’ve got a meeting to get to.”
“Yes, we do. Speaking of shitshows.”
“I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
“See you then.”
Before she left her desk, Sam downed two of the prescription pills that kept the migraines under control. Freddie appeared at the doorway, and Sam waved him in as she chased the pills with water.
“Everything okay?” her partner asked. “You look weird in the eyes.”
“Gee, thanks. Trying to fend off a migraine.”
“Just what you don’t need today.”
“Or any day. Where are we?”
“McBride and Tyrone have gone to Lori’s apartment to interview the neighbors. I’ve got Archie’s team dumping her phone, and Arnold is trying to figure out where she worked.”
Sam withdrew Lori’s wallet from her pocket and handed it to him. “Have Arnold go through it and catalog everything in it. You may find some employer info in there.”
“Got it. Will do.”
“I have a commander’s meeting at noon. After that, we’re going to Bowie.”
“Right.”
“Sorry if this is fucking up your holiday plans.”
“It’s not. Elin had to work today anyway. New Year’s Day is huge at the gym with all the resolutions.”
“Why in the hell do people do stupid things like suddenly decide to start working out just because it’s January first?”
Freddie laughed at the question and walked away shaking his head. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“That’ll be the day.”
Chapter Six
With the thought of working out at a gym giving her the willies, Sam called Nick before she left for the chief’s meeting.
“How’s it going, babe?”
“Shitty.” She brought him up to speed on what her morning had entailed.
“Holy fuck,” he said in a soft whisper. “Gonzo, he’s...”
“Innocent. We all know that. Now we’ve just got to prove it. Can you give me Andy’s number? He might have some information about Lori after overseeing Gonzo’s end of the custody case.”
“Sure.” He recited the number for her.
Sam wrote it down. “Thanks.”
“Gonna be a long day, huh?”
“Looks that way.”
“I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She left a message for Andy and then headed for the chief’s suite, where she was stopped by his admin. Sam never could remember the mousy woman’s name.
“Could I speak to you for a moment, Lieutenant?” she asked so softly Sam almost couldn’t hear her. Her brown eyes darted nervously toward the chief’s closed door.
“What’s up?”
“I know you’re close to the chief on a personal level.”
“So what about it?” Sam asked, immediately on edge. She hated being reminded of her personal connections to the brass. So her dad had been a big deal in the department. She’d clawed her way to her current rank all on her own. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but she tried not to think about the discretion the chief had used in making her a lieutenant after learning about her decades-long battle with dyslexia.
“I’m worried about him. He’s not himself, and his face...”
“What’s wrong with his face?”
“It’s sort of gray and unhealthy looking.”
Sam was ashamed to say that she hadn’t paid much attention to how the chief was holding up under Springer’s intense campaign to discredit him. “I’ll talk to him after the meeting.”
“Thank you,” she said, releasing a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
“You didn’t. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”
She glanced again at the closed door. “He listens to you.”
Sam nodded. “We go way back.” He’d been a huge part of her life growing up, as an adopted uncle. The chief and his wife had been unable to have children of their own. Sam and her sisters, among others, had helped to fill the void for them. Since she joined the department almost fourteen years ago, the two of them had worked hard to maintain a professional relationship in addition to the personal one.
Sam knocked on the door and entered to find the chief along with Deputy Chief Conklin, Captain Malone and all the lieutenants. Wow, he’d called in the troops. She nodded to Archie and Higgins from the Bomb Squad. When had he made lieutenant? She scowled at Davidson and ended up in a seat next to Vice Squad Lieutenant Cole McDonald. Awesome.
She and McDonald had locked horns at the end of the Springer case when his compromised narc investigation had fucked up her homicide investigation.
“Is everyone here?” Farnsworth asked Conklin, who took a look around the assembled group and then nodded. “Thank you all for coming in on a holiday. I appreciate it very much. As you know, the department—and me in particular—is under fire for our handling of the Springer case. Bill Springer is channeling his grief over losing two sons into a witch hunt aimed squarely at this department and this office.”
As Farnsworth spoke, McDonald looked down at his hands, which were twitching on his lap.
He ought to be twitching. His fuckup had led to a nightmare for the department and the chief. Well, if she were being entirely fair rather than only outraged, he was probably as upset about it as anyone. Sam raised her hand.
“Holland.”
“I’m wondering if we have any more information about how the narc investigation was compromised.”
Beside her McDonald froze, his discomfort and anger palpable.
Sam knew she was an asshole for blindsiding her fellow lieutenant with the question, but one of her best officers had nearly died because of his team’s screwup, and she wanted answers.
“McDonald?” the chief said. “What’ve you got?”
“We’re continuing our internal investigation. I’ve spoken with every member of the undercover team in-depth, and no one had contact with Springer or any of our other marks the night before the shoot-out in Friendship Heights.”
“So we still don’t know how he found out we were focused on him for the homicides?” Sam asked.
“No.” McDonald spoke through gritted teeth. “We don’t.”
“It’s been six weeks—”
“I know how fucking long it’s been,” McDonald lashed back at her. “Do you think this isn’t on my mind every fucking minute of every fucking day?”
“McDonald,” Malone said. “Take a goddamn breath.”
“I’m breathing just fine, Captain. We’re doing everything we can to get to the bottom of what happened that night, but I don’t yet have the answers we all want and need. I wish I did.” He paused before he added, “You should know, myself and a couple of my guys have been receiving death threats. We suspect they’re coming from the other members of Springer’s posse who’re still in the wind after the investigation went to shit.”
Farnsworth’s face looked like it had been carved from stone as everyone waited to hear what he would say. “How long have you been receiving death threats?”
“Almost from the beginning.”
“And you’re just now mentioning them?”
“We know how to take care of ourselves, Chief. We’re not looking to make it into a bigger deal than it already is. These guys aren’t going to show their faces in this city again anytime soon. They know we’re looking for them.”
“I want a full report, with details and specifics, about each of the death threats, as well as who has received them, by the end of the day,” Conklin said.
“Yes, sir,” McDonald replied.
Despite her antagonism, Sam felt for the guy. She’d had a long-term undercover investigation go south on her once. Sometimes she still had nightmares about Marquis Johnson’s agonizing screams after his young son Quentin was shot during a raid she’d led at a crack house. Quentin wasn’t supposed to be there. The fact he was there that night still weighed on Sam more than a year later.
“I think you ought to make a statement,” Sam said to the chief, surprising herself as much as the others. “You need to come clean about what happened that night and why, let them know we’re continuing our internal investigation and we understand and sympathize with Mr. Springer’s grief over the loss of his sons. You could update the press on Detective Gonzales’s condition as he continues to recover from the shot to his neck by Billy Springer, who was implicated in the murders of his brother and eight other teenagers, which would be a great way to remind them that a decorated officer was nearly killed by Mr. Springer’s sainted son.” When she realized all eyes were on her, Sam swallowed hard before continuing. “We haven’t said a word about what happened that day since that day. It might be time for an update. Sir.”
After a long pause, Farnsworth said, “What does everyone think?”
“I agree with Lieutenant Holland,” Malone said. “Springer has had the microphone and the spotlight on him for weeks now. Let’s retake control of the story. You could do the press conference and go on some of the radio and TV talk shows and just be honest. Tell them we’re investigating what went wrong and hoping to provide some answers for the Springer family, as well as the community as a whole.”
“I’d want to consult with Public Affairs,” Farnsworth said.
“I’ll get someone down here.” Conklin got up and left the room.
“I also need to clear it with the mayor. She’s been on my ass over this for weeks now.”
“Why don’t you see if she’d be willing to attend the press briefing?” Sam said. “To show her support for her embattled police chief.”
“I’ll ask her.” He seemed less than thrilled with the idea, but Sam couldn’t blame him.
Conklin returned. “Captain Norris will be down momentarily. I asked him to come personally.”
“Thank you. Does anyone else have any thoughts to add?” Hearing none, Farnsworth dismissed the other officers. “Conklin, Holland and Malone, please stay.”
Malone glanced at Sam, his brow raised in question.
Sam knew what he was asking her and nodded reluctantly. As soon as the room cleared of the other officers, Sam moved to a seat closer to the chief’s desk. “We have another situation you should be aware of,” she said, noting the ashen color of his skin. His admin was right that he looked like shit.
“What’s that?”
It pained her greatly to have to add to his worries and to give voice to her concern about Gonzo. “The mother of Detective Sergeant Gonzales’s son was found murdered in a parked car this morning. She’d been manually strangled.”
Farnsworth stared back at her, his eyes flat and blank. “This would be the same woman who recently exposed his earlier connection to the judge that heard their custody case?”
“Yes,” Sam said.
The chief’s deep sigh spoke for him.
“Tell me he has an alibi for last night,” Conklin said.
“He and his fiancée were home all night with their son, celebrating the first anniversary of the night they met. I talked to him around eleven o’clock, and he expressed dismay about the story hitting the media and the possible implications for the custody matter. He was upset but under control.”
“He never mentioned the child’s mother?” Conklin asked.
And then there’s the part that wants to wrap my hands around her fucking neck and squeeze the life out of her.
“No,” Sam said without blinking. “Sir.”
“So he and the fiancée who also loves the kid are each other’s alibi?” Farnsworth asked.
“Yes.” Sam told them about the situation with the security cameras in Gonzo’s building and the video she’d delivered to Archie earlier, hoping for a lead as to who disabled the cameras. “We’re also digging into Lori’s life. She was a recovering addict who’d recently lost custody of the child for whom she’d turned her life around. We’re hoping to find motive elsewhere before we release the victim’s name.”
“You’ll have until tomorrow before they’ll be demanding we release the name of the victim,” Conklin reminded her.
“Yes, sir. I’ve called in my entire squad to work the case today. I assumed the overtime would be approved.”
“What choice do we have?” Farnsworth asked. “I can’t afford any more shit raining down on this department, and the murder of this woman who was connected by controversy to Sergeant Gonzales is going to be a shitstorm of epic proportions.”
“Are we looking at conflict-of-interest trouble with this one?” Malone asked.
“That was my next question,” Conklin said.
Farnsworth stroked the stubble on his chin as he thought it over. “I’d like to call in Hill to consult so we can defer to him if it leads back to Sergeant Gonzales.”
“It’s not going to!” Sam said. “He’s not a murderer. He’s a decorated Homicide detective.”
“I’m well aware of his qualifications as well as his impeccable record, Lieutenant,” the chief said. “However, he’s also a father who’d do anything to protect his child.”